


the mighty nein & the olympians

by onefootinsea_andoneonshore



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Modern Era, Panic Attacks, Percy Jackson AU, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Superpowers, but not the same kind you feel?, but there's no magic, eventually, i mean there's magic, lol that's a fun tag, sorta?, they're a dysfunctional little family, they're still orcs and tieflings and elves and stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-06-24 02:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19714468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onefootinsea_andoneonshore/pseuds/onefootinsea_andoneonshore
Summary: When an ancient evil threatens the world as they know it, a group of powerful teenagers must band together to stop it. Good thing they all know what they're doing, who they are, and how to work together...or not.The demigod Mighty Nein AU that no one asked for but everyone's getting.





	1. Wherein Everything Goes To Shit

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this fic! Completely unbetaed, but im an okay editor by myself  
> so yeah this idea literally came to me in the middle of the night but i have Big Plans yall
> 
> also, jsyk, i have very little practical knowledge of greek mythology, i read these books at age 12 and i've been obsessed ever since but that's the extent of what i know, so Bear With Me
> 
> speaking of the percy jackson books, i'm only following the more basic plot structures of them, kinda making them a little darker you might say, but mostly to fit the story and vibes of the Mighty Nein.
> 
> Anyways, i hope yall enjoy this! I'm certainly excited for it!! hmu on tumblr @you-wont-lose-me if you want to chat!

Fjord's idea of a school field trip involved cool museums and getting to eat lunch in the in-house Pizza Hut.

It did not involve, however, his foster brother going on a murderous rampage.

_(But that's getting ahead of ourselves. Let's start a little further back.)_

Fjord was an orphan. Plain and simple. No father in the picture, and a mother who, for all he knew, gave him up at the first chance. He'd bounced from home to home to home for 16 years, until he'd arrived in Zadash one year ago. Being a half-orc kid, most places he'd lived fell on a scale of neglectful to abusive, but this one... this one was different. Because for the first time, the foster parent actually seemed to _care._

Vandran was strict, to be sure. Chores were to be done without complaint, homework always came first, 9:45 curfew, but it was all out of _actual_ giving-a-shit. He sent Fjord to the better public school in the area, always made sure he felt heard, and took the time to teach him everything he knew, especially about his time as a sailor on the Menagerie Coast. Now, at 17, Fjord could surely say that the past year had been the best of his life.

Today, Fjord's AP World History class was at the Dwendalian Museum of Ancient and Fine Art for a tour of its Greco-Roman exhibit. For any and every other kid in his class, it was little more than an excuse to not have any other classes, but Fjord was a nerd at heart. A whole day surrounded by history and art? Winter's Crest had come early.

The tour guide was midway through a description of an ancient tombstone when Fjord was startled by a whisper near his shoulder.

"What the hell is a pantheon?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to listen."

"Sounds like a Marvel villain."

"Sabien, I swear to God-"

"Boys!"

Ah yes. That. Vandran had volunteered to chaperone the field trip, and in any other circumstance, Fjord would be thrilled. But, in some convoluted effort to keep things "fair," Vandran had asked the school to allow his other ward, 16-year-old Sabien, to attend.

It wasn't that Fjord disliked Sabien, necessarily, it was more like he was thoroughly creeped out by him. For one thing, he was pretty sure he'd never seen the guy sleep. _Ever._ And he had a knack for just popping up next to you when you least expected it. He'd arrived six months ago, and even sharing a room, Fjord had never been able to get a read on him. However, with Vandran's firm admonishment, they both turned their attention back towards the speaker.

"... Archaeologists believe that it depicts Poseidon and his wife Amphitrite in his seat of power in the ocean. Now, who knows who the original king of the oceans was believed to be? Anyone?" The short elven guide raised her eyebrows as she looked expectantly into the crowd of teenagers. No one dared to meet her gaze, keeping their eyes on the ground or on the phones that they'd been playing on for the duration of the tour. Fjord waited silently for _literally anyone else_ to raise their hand because just saying the answer was a straight ticket to Uncoolville that he couldn't afford. But he _knew_ , he knew the answer, _Oceanus, the oldest of the titans, brother to Kronos, who was lord of the titans,_ the answer buzzing in his mind as the guide waited.

"No one?" The elf's face fell slightly. "Tough crowd. Uh, Oceanus is the answer to that question, eldest son of Uranus-" A few boys in the class snickered- "and Gaea. He had a couple of brothers, who you'll see on this next bit of pottery..."

Thr tour continued until lunch, but before Fjord could grab a slice of pepperoni, Vandran's hand appeared on his shoulder.

"Can you come with me a minute?" he asked. That was another thing Fjord liked about him - he never pushed him to do anything he didn't want to do.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he replied, furrowing his brow in confusion. He followed Vandran into one of the long hallways between the exhibits. Sabien was already there, leaning shock-still against the wall. As they approached, his stance relaxed, like he'd been paused and unpaused.

"So, what's the dealio, Van my man?" Sabien cocked an eyebrow and grinned snarkily. For a split second, Fjord thought he saw rows of pointed, jagged teeth in the half-elf's mouth. He blinked, and they were gone.

"My 'deal,' Sabien, is that you've been antagonizing Fjord all day. I got special permission for you to come on this trip, after you kept asking about it, and now I'm a little perplexed as to why you're acting out like this." That's Vandran, Fjord knows, telling it like it is.

"Really? You wanna hash this out _here?"_ Sabien's smile was gone, but the devil-may-care tone and hungry, angry gleam in his eyes remained.

"Yes, here, because if you don't get your act together and apologize, right now, I am taking you home."

Sabien looked up and down the empty hallway before meeting Vandran's eyes. "Well, I suppose now's as good a time as any."

Fjord wanted to believe that what happened next was a dream, but there was nothing dreamlike about the way Sabien's eyes flared red-hot, or how he and Vandran were immediately pinned up against the wall by the throat. He did every defensive maneuver he could think of, kicking and scratching and punching, but Sabien was unfazed as he looked between the two of them.

"Well you see, I heard a little while ago about some new prophecy. The usual this-and-that, something something 'Orphanmaker,' something something 'water's ire," but what did catch my attention was the mentioning of a child of Poseidon. Now, I think to myself, 'Well, that can't be right, there ain't any more of those.' But then, then I hear about some nereid's kid and none other than the spawn of Fish Man himself, livin' under the same roof in Zadash, of all places. And I think to myself, this can't be a coincidence. So-" he began to close off their airways- "what are you two planning? Either you tell me now, or I send you right on down so you can tell Hades in person, how's that sound?"

Fjord's mind was swimming as he gasped for air. Nereids, Poseidon, prophecy - there was no way. Sabien had just let the tour get to his head, he was just fucking around with them - but then a hand gently found his arm, and he looked over.

Vandran's eyes were wide, but set with determination. He barely croaked, "Go... Trostenwald… camp... _run!"_

And with that, he kicked Sabien square in the junk, and they were both released.

Fjord scurried back on the ground as he took deep, ragged breaths. Trostenwald? The beer town? It wasn't too far, a couple hours’ drive at most, but why there?

They were really fighting now, trading vicious blows while Sabien kept… _changing._ His gritted teeth were sharp again, and his fingers were looking more like talons, and _were those_ **_wings?_ **

A minute of back-and-forth passed before Vandran was able to knock Sabien from his feet. He immediately ran over to Fjord.

"You okay, son? Fjord, you there? You gotta get out of here, kid, don't you worry about me." All he could do was nod, his mouth hanging open in shock and horror. Vandran's bright blue eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled sadly. "I've got so much to tell you. Stay strong, kid. I-"

The word died halfway out of his mouth as a set of long, clawed fingers wrapped around his neck. Fjord closed his eyes tight, because _it's all a dream, I'm dreaming, this isn't real, no, no, no no no no-_

A sickening _snap._

A thud.

Fjord's eyes opened. Vandran's crumpled form lay on the marble floor a few feet away, unmoving.

Sabien stood before him, or who Fjord assumed was Sabien, because the thing that stood before him now was no longer a brown-haired half-elf, but instead a creature of flame and death.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fjord saw Vandran's body seemingly dissolve into a pool of clear water. He caught the scent of an ocean breeze, for the smallest of moments.

Sabien took a step towards him, twin balls of fire coalescing in his palms. Fjord stared while he took another step. Another. Another.

"You! Boy!" A deep voice, down the hall. Fjord tore his gaze, tearful and blurred, from the creature towards where the voice had come from. A tall figure in a dark suit raised his hand towards Fjord, like a police officer at an intersection, and all of a sudden, an unfamiliar weight materialized in his hand. Sabien went to strike, and Fjord’s most basic of instincts compelled him to swing blindly.

The fire was released, but it hit the wall behind him, because somehow, with little more than a screech and a gust of hot wind, Sabien was gone.

As a weird, pollen-like dust settled around him, Fjord fell back, exhausted, his head colliding with the slick surface. He lifted the object in his hand to his face.

A sword. An honest-to-goodness, pirate-lookin' sword. He sat up, looking for the man in the suit, but the hallway was empty.

It was then that Fjord's brain decided that that was its limit of crazy for the day, thank you very much. He looked back at the sword warily.

"Nope."

And just like that, the sword popped out of existence. He took a deep, trembling breath. _Maybe it_ **_is_ ** _all a dream,_ he thought, rising shakily to his feet. He took a step. Two. On the third, he slipped and fell flat on his stomach. Picking himself up, he slowly looked down, silently praying that he’d slipped on nothing - and there it was. A pool of saltwater, glistening on the marble. _Vandran._ His heart rate increasing, he slowly looked up at the wall behind him. It was _very_ much on fire, spitting black smoke as it consumed the plaster. He began breathing heavily. _What had he done?_

And so, he followed Vandran's final command to him.

He ran.


	2. Wherein Fjord Has Terrible Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord, with nothing left, does the only thing he can think of: he runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! thanks for all the love yall have been giving this, i'm so glad you enjoy it!! as thanks, voila: a new chapter just two days after posting!!!! this probably wont happen again but ive had a Shit Ton of time on my hands lol
> 
> special thanks to iris (@amonstercourtinginsanity on here, @bluebellflames on tumblr) for betaing, i Love U
> 
> if you know any tumblr folks who might want to give this chapter a read, reblog it on tumblr!! im @you-wont-lose-me on there if you want to do that, or if you just want to chat!
> 
> tw for this chapter: gun mention
> 
> Now, let's dive into this next chapter..... of my fic *cue cr theme* sdkjfsksjd but yeah Lets Go Folks

Fjord stepped out of the building just as the fire alarms began to blare. But all he did, all he  _ could _ do, was run. Down the steps, down the sidewalk, across streets, not stopping until he reached the tall brick apartment building where he lived. Used to live. With Vandran. Memories roared and flowed in his mind like a waterfall, of Vandran smiling, laughing, choking,  _ dying- _

He could barely hold his keys in his shaking hands, but somehow, he got the door unlocked. He rushed up the stairs, got to the door, got out the keys, opened the door, ran in - and froze.

What the  _ fuck _ was Fjord doing?

He couldn’t go back. No. What if he was still there? He couldn’t have  _ killed _ the guy, really, right? He’d just disappeared. Right?

But it wasn’t like Fjord had anywhere to go. No family, no friends, nothing. He had  _ nothing. _ He was back to where he’d been a year ago, a kid without a home, without support, without friends. A scared little boy, with nothing to lose.

So Fjord pulled the janky, beat-up duffle bag out from under his bed, and began to pack.

_ (The bag, the one Fjord had sworn a month ago that he’d never use again, because his days and  _ years _ of moving from place to place to place were finally over, because he  _ finally _ had a family.) _

Packing everything that he could fit, Fjord grabbed the small stash of bills that Vandran had given him for “emergency spendin’ money” every once in a while and stuffed them into the pockets of his sweatshirt.

This was an emergency, right?

Fjord was about to rush out of the door again when his eye caught on the small trinket on the windowsill of his room. It was a bottle, like the little ones they give you on airplanes for alcohol, but glass. Inside was a collection of sand, shells, and seaglass, glinting in the midafternoon sunlight. It had been a birthday present from Vandran to Fjord a few months ago.

_ “It’s from the Menagerie Coast. I’d always grab samples of everywhere I visited, to remind me and such. But the Coast is special, y’know? It’s my home. And I want you to have a piece of that.” _

_ “Isn’t this important to you?” _

_ “Yeah. That’s why I want you to have it, Fjord - so you can feel at home too.” _

He put it in his duffle bag.

And then Fjord kept running, because he remembered where he was supposed to be running to.

Trostenwald. How the hell was he supposed to get to Trostenwald? Fjord remembered coming to Zadash, on a train with his social worker, passing by fields of grain and corn. The train station.

His mind went on autopilot, moving through the city as the sunlight gave way to the harsh fluorescent streetlights of dusk. Fjord didn’t do anything about the tears that streamed down his face, because that would require admitting, at least to himself, that he was one step from breaking.

Fjord took a shortcut a few blocks from the station, moving into a dark alleyway, mind so clouded that he didn’t realize that there was a man in front of him until he ran right into him. The fall to the ground knocked the wind out of his lungs, but couldn’t un-hear the distinct cocking of a gun.

“Your money or your life, orc boy,” a rough voice growled. Fjord, still prone on the ground, threw one arm over his eyes and sighed deeply.

Then he began to laugh. A mirthless, strained laugh, a madman’s cackle bubbled up from his throat. “Are you joking? This has to be a joke. No  _ way  _ is my luck this bad.”

A kick landed right in his side with an audible  _ crunch, _ followed by a familiar burst of pain. “Search him!” the same gritty voice ordered, and a cold pair of hands pulled the wadded-up cash out of his pockets. “Maybe cooperate next time, Tusky, then I might not have to hurt you.”

The lightheaded disbelief in Fjord’s mind now gave way to a white-hot rage, hearing a word that was so often used to insult and belittle him. He clenched his fist, preparing to strike - and his vision went white.

And then adjusted to the light that now filled the alley, beaming from behind Fjord. He looked up, and his upside-down view showed a figure, silhouetted by two blinding lights on either side. Car headlights, he realized. Another thought suddenly occurred to him. But no, it couldn’t be... 

“Hey, dickheads!” Nope,  _ definitely _ wasn’t. This voice was higher, and accented, not like the one from the museum.

_ The museum. _

With that thought, a familiar sword appeared in Fjord’s hand. The two thieves, whose faces, he could now see, were covered by masks, took one look at the sword and fled down the alley.

“Yeah, that’s right, you better run, you fuckers! I hope you fall and break your d- oh my gosh are you okay?”

Still flat on his back, Fjord looked up at the now-approaching figure and  _ woah, she’s pretty. _ Curly, bobbed blue hair, a set of headphones perched on her head, violet eyes that almost seemed to glow in the light as she knelt down -

And slapped him. Not that hard, but hard enough to bring him to his senses.

“Can you talk?” The girl tilted her head, and Fjord could see now that the “headphones” on her head were actually a set of tightly coiled, gray-blue horns - she was a tiefling. “It’s okay if you can’t talk, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, is all.”

Between the confusion and the pain, he was unsure how to respond, so he tried to sit up. Well, “try” being the operative word, since the moment he lifted himself onto his elbows, a pain like a dozen knives stabbed at his side. He swore loudly.

“Yeah, no, that doesn’t sound good,” the girl said as she scurried around to his left side. “I think I saw this, that one guy kicked you, right? What a dick. Hey, I think I can help you, but you have to sit up, is that okay?”

He blinked, overwhelmed by the barrage of questions, and nodded.

“Okay then, here we go!” With a strength that Fjord in no way expected, she scooped him up by his underarms and set him against the stone wall of the alley.

He hissed in pain. “Please, be careful... whoever you are.” He looked up at her warily, but she just gave him a toothy grin and stuck out her hand.

“My name’s Jester. What’s yours?”

“Fjord.” He put his trembling hand in hers and shook it. “Thank you, Jester, you really saved my ass.”

“Of course! I  _ am _ pretty cool,” she giggled. “Now, let’s see what’s happening here. Is it okay if I examine this a bit?” She pointed at his rib cage.

“I mean, I suppo-  _ ow, ow, ow.” _ Jester was already lifting up his jacket and pressing her hands against his side.

“Yeah, your ribs are really broken, dude. Like, more than they should be, with just a kick. Have you broken your ribs before, like, recently-ish?” She looked up at him, and where Fjord expected to see pity, he just saw curiosity.

He thought of the home he’d been in right before Vandran, with the elven man who had kicked him down the stairs once for not doing the dishes. “Yes, about a year ago.”

Jester nodded. “Figures. Well, I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, but I’ll do my best.” She sat back and began to rub her hands together like she was trying to generate warmth.

Fjord looked around the alley, towards where the car’s high beams were still blazing. “Do you have, like, a first aid kit or something?”

“Oh, I’ve got something even better,” Jester said, smiling… well, devilishly. His eyes widened, and she immediately threw her hands in the air like she’d dropped something. “Oh, I didn’t mean anything - I wasn’t trying to - that sounded weird, didn’t it?”

Fjord was utterly befuddled. “Um, uh, yes. Yeah.”

She began to wring at her hands, like she was trying to rub a spot out of her palm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird, I- I haven’t been around other people a lot. Like, ever. I really can help you, though.” She carefully took each of his wrists in her hands, and it was only then that Fjord realized that the sword was gone again.

Jester looked him right in the eye. “Do you trust me?”

Fjord looked back at her for a long, bewildered moment. This pretty, semi-socially-awkward girl who he had just met, who had saved him (quite possibly saved his  _ life) _ from muggers, who had shown more compassion towards him in two minutes than most people showed him in two years, who he knew nothing of but her name, was asking Fjord if he trusted her.

He had nothing left to lose.

“Yes.”

She smiled again. “Okay! Here we go!” she chirped, and placed her hands again on Fjord’s side.

The first thing he felt was the warmth. Fjord knew tieflings usually ran a little hotter than most, so it wasn’t too unexpected. But then, they grew warmer, like the feeling of a hot drink being held to his ribs. Jester’s eyes were closed, as if she were concentrating very hard, and Fjord could see that -

No way.

Her hands were  _ glowing. _ Warm, golden light, like beams of sunlight radiating from her fingers. Fjord began to feel his ribs stitching back together, the sensation so alien that he froze in shock.

A minute passed, and the glow faded. Jester opened one eye, then the other, and happily examined her handiwork. “Oh hey, it worked!”

“You didn’t know if it would  _ work?” _

“Well, I mean, yeah, it doesn’t always work, but it worked this time!” she said as she stood up. She offered a hand towards Fjord, who accepted it. Standing was a bit of a thing, as the soreness was still present even if the breaks were mended, but he got up just fine. Fjord realized now that he was a full head taller than Jester, who was beginning to look up at him quizzically.

The absolute weirdness of the whole situation began to dawn on him. “Well, uh, thank you, very much, really appreciate… whatever the hell you just did to me, but I really should be on my way. Got a train to catch.” He picked up his duffle bag and swung it over his shoulder. He gave Jester’s hand, which he realized he was still holding, a squeeze for good measure, before letting go and turning to leave.

_ (It wasn’t that Fjord  _ couldn’t _ believe what had just happened, more like he didn’t want to, because that meant believing that your friends could turn into demons and that the people you loved dissolved into water when they died.) _

“You’re like me,” her voice echoed down the alleyway, “aren’t you?”

Fjord took a deep, shaky breath, and turned around. Her head was tilted, eyes wide and curious. “I saw you, before. You made a sword, out of thin air. And just now, you… you  _ heal _ differently.”

“What do you - what does that mean?” Fjord stepped closer.

“I don’t really know how to explain it,” she said, rubbing at her hands again. “It’s like, when I heal people, I… tap into certain… energies in them, I guess. With most people, it’s like a straight line, the energy, and the healing just… flows through it. With you, it was more like… like a zig-zag. Harder to make it set in. It feels like that when I heal myself too.” She stepped towards him. “So, Fjord,  _ are you like me?” _

He stood there a moment. It dawned on him that maybe he wasn’t the only one looking for the answers to the same questions. Something started to piece itself together in Fjord’s mind, like he was trying to solve a million-piece puzzle and he’d finally found two pieces that fit. The question was,  _ how? _ “I might be. Honestly, I don’t know anything about anything right now.”

“I knew it! Oh my goodness, this is so cool! I’ve never met anyone else like me before!” Jester was practically bouncing with joy, and it brought the smallest of smiles to Fjord’s face. “Does this mean you’re going to camp too?”

His heart skipped a beat.  _ Camp. _ “This camp, is it in Trostenwald, by any chance?”

“Oh my gosh, yeah! Are you going there?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of his immediate response. “Uh, I should. Go there, I mean, but I can’t really see how I’ll be getting there now.”

“Well that’s silly, I can take you!” she smiled, pointing at the car behind her. “That’s my car, I’m actually on my way there now, if-”

The words stopped registering in Fjord’s ears. If he’d learned anything from being alone, it was that if it sounded too good to be true, it almost definitely was, and this? This would almost definitely end in trouble.

“Thank you, but no. I appreciate the offer, but I won’t inconvenience you any further.” He brushed past her as he went to leave the alley behind her.

“But you just said -”

“I’ll be  _ fine, _ thank you, I don’t need your pity-”

“Oh, for  _ fuck’s _ sake.” Her voice went almost shrill on the curse. He stopped, closing his eyes and sighing before turning back around, again. Would she  _ ever _ let him leave? “It’s not  _ pity, _ Fjord. Sometimes people just... do nice things for other people.” Jester walked towards him. “Let me help you, man.”

Fjord raised an eyebrow at her. It was definitely a bad idea. Nothing good ever seemed to last with him, and she so much of it within her that she  _ literally glowed. _

“Soooooooo?” Jester pointed finger guns at him, a smile creeping back onto her face.

He trusted her, right?

Fjord sighed, and slid his bag off of his shoulder. “This isn’t going to end well.”

She let out a shriek of excitement. “Uh, yeah, I sure  _ hope _ it does!”

“What?”

“Sorry, probably not a good time for Vine references. But  _ hell yeah! _ Road trip bitcheeeees!” Jester all but scrambled to the driver’s side of the car, hopping over the hood to get there.  _ What had he gotten himself into? _

Fjord turned to the car, which he could now see was a hot pink Volkswagon bug. Sure. That wasn’t the weirdest thing about this day.

He opened up the car door and plopped himself into the seat.

_ Here goes nothing. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> full disclosure, i've never actually broken my ribs, so i was mostly guessing for that lol
> 
> soooooo im curious to hear who yall think jester's dad is, lmk if you've figured it out ;-)
> 
> i hope you liked this chapter, I certainly had a lot of fun writing it!!!
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are highly appreciated!!
> 
> look forward to meeting another familiar face next chapter...


	3. Wherein There Are More Questions Than Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord and his impromptu traveling companion learn a little more about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took Far Too Long but also it doubles the length of this fic so i think im fine
> 
> thank you to everyone who kudosed (is that a word?)/commented on the past chapters! and as always, thank you iris (@amonstercourtinginsanity on here, @bluebellflames on tumblr) for betaing this Monster of a chapter, you are lovely and talented and this wouldn't be possible without you <3
> 
> find this chapter on my cr blog @jessie-and-fjord, or on my main @you-wont-lose-me - feel free to come scream with me about fjorester and/or critical role whenever, I have no social life
> 
> tw for a mild panic attack in this chapter - if you want to skip it, it starts at "in the quiet that followed" and ends at "he forced himself to inhale"
> 
> without further ado, lets go lesbians

Fjord had _immediate_ regrets.

Or really just one big one: Jester didn’t know how to drive. Or, at least, she was comically and _terrifyingly_ bad at it. He was pretty sure they’d run no less than five red lights in the past 20 minutes, which shouldn’t even be mathematically possible, really. And just to make the experience ten times more frightening, they were going double the speed limit.

“Jester, just out of curiosity, do you have a learner’s permit, or a license, or anything?”

“Nope!” she said cheerily. “You have to be sixteen and a half to even get your permit in Nicodranas, and I’m only sixteen and a third.”

To keep himself from screaming in terror, he kept talking. “Nicodranas? That’s on the Coast, right?”

“Yeah! I started driving up here like a couple days ago I guess? It’s been really fun, I’ve never been outside of the city.”

“It’s a miracle you made it here, driving like this,” he muttered under his breath. “So, if you don’t - _use your turn signal, Jester -_ if you don’t mind me asking, how did you hear about this camp we’re headed to?”

“Oh, my mama told me about it.” At the mention of her mother, Jester’s joyful grin changed into something a little more bittersweet. “She said that it was for kids with special powers and stuff, and that they’d, y’know, protect me and whatever. And you!”

“A camp for kids, like - _watch out that’s a bike lane_ \- like a summer camp?” In the midst of the terror, a tiny, youthful part of him smiled. He’d never gone to a summer camp before. It was March now, though, what sort of summer camp was open year-round?

“I don’t know, maybe,” she replied as she took a left turn that was _way_ sharper than necessary. “What about you, where are you from?”

“Well, I was born in Port Damali, but I’ve sort of lived all over.”

“Oh my gosh, _really?_ What’s the coolest place you’ve been to?”

“Uh, I haven’t really thought about that much, actually.” He took a moment to think. “There, ah, there’s this one place a little further north called Hupperdook, you heard of it?”

Jester began to giggle incessantly. Her smile and laugh brought a flutter of _something_ to his chest, but Fjord couldn’t quite think of a word for it.“No, but that’s the most amazing name for a town _ever.”_

Fjord smiled. “It is pretty amazing. I remember they used to have wild parties almost every night, with fireworks and everything. It was a pain when you were trying to fall asleep, but there was just something about… I don’t know, I guess about the _joy_ there. I haven’t lived there in - _for the sake of all that is good, Jester, pick a lane_ \- it’s been a few years since I lived there.”

“Well, why’d you move? Do your parents move for work or something?” She shot him a curious glance as she merged onto the freeway.

“I-I’m a foster kid. I don’t have parents.” Why was he telling her all of this? Why did he feel the need to spill everything to a girl who he’d just met? “I live - I _used_ to live in Zadash, I was there for about a year. It was the longest I’d stayed with someone in ten years.”

“Were they dicks too? Is that why you left?”

Fjord almost wished that she wouldn’t ask so many questions, but the ache in his heart demanded to be felt and seen, and so he continued. “Ah, no, actually. He was kind. He, ah… he’s dead now.”

“Oh.” The car was silent for a moment. He pushed down the burbling feeling of shame that rose from his gut, _don’t burden others with your problems, whining won’t do you any good, she’s better than that._

“I’m sorry, Fjord. That’s… that sucks.” Jester looked over at him. He avoided her gaze, instead looking down at his hands and realizing that they were still trembling.

A beat passed before Jester asked softly, “How long has he been gone?”

Fjord checked the clock on the dashboard and blinked - had it really been that long? “Four hours, ish.”

He suddenly lurched forward as the car slammed to a halt.

_“What?”_

“Bloody _hells,_ Jester-”

“It’s been _four hours?”_

“I mean, honestly it feels like it’s been a lot less-”

“That’s _worse!”_

He finally looked over at her. Jester was staring at him with a look that was, to his best calculations, 20% confusion, 35% horror, 45% astonishment, and 100% concern. She shifted so that she was facing him, and Fjord’s brain found this to be the perfect time to realize that she was not wearing a seatbelt. _Great. Fun. Awesome._

Jester tilted her head again, speaking like she was talking to a startled kitten. “Are you okay?”

“No. Not in the slightest,” Fjord said with a dry laugh. He broke eye contact, now staring at the roof of the car as he tilted his head back.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, for starters, I met you 45 minutes ago.”

Jester sighed, blowing out the air in a way that pushed a blue curl out of her face. “Well, I mean, I guess that’s true. But _shit,_ man, that’s fucked up.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Fjord could feel a dam of emotion threatening to break inside of him, but he willed the worst of it away. Before any of it could spill over, Jester piped up again.

“Is that why you were there? In the alley?”

Fjord blinked furiously as tears welled up in his eyes. Managing to keep his voice from cracking, he replied with a simple, “Yes.”

The car was quiet after that, for a long time. If it had been even a day before, Fjord might’ve liked a bit of silence as they drove through the twilit monotony of hills and trees outside of Zadash. But without distraction, he was left only with his thoughts, which were… dark, to say the least.

There were so many questions - the most obvious being _what the fuck was happening to him?_ Who even _was_ the man he’d lived with for a year? And, most of all, what was he doing on a wild goose chase to follow his last words? Accompanied by a random girl with magic powers, no less.

The thought of magic sent a chill down Fjord’s spine, like someone was pouring cold water on his neck.

They continued to travel for another hour. Jester turned the radio on at one point, but never seemed to stay on one channel long enough for a whole song to finish. Either she didn’t like anything that was playing, or just wanted to hear as much as possible.

After a while, Fjord was done being stuck inside his own head.

“Jester?”

“Mmhm?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” He realized how the question might sound a moment after it left his mouth. “Sorry, that was rude, I-”

Jester laughed good-naturedly, but he could tell that the question had caught her a little off-guard. “No, no, it’s okay. Um. I told you I never really left Nicodranas before, right? Well, I also kind of… didn’t leave the house a lot? I mean, I did, but, like, technically, you’re the first person I’ve ever met besides, like, my mama and my teachers. And a few other people. But you’re the first person I’ve ever met in real life that’s my age-ish.” She shot him a nervous, hopeful smile.

“So, you leave home for the first time, and you decide to go to summer camp?”

“I mean, yeah. I couldn’t stay in Nicodranas, and my dad… I don’t know him. So my mama said to go there!”

Fjord nodded. All of what she was saying was bizarre, but nothing could really surprise him anymore. “Go figure, I suppose. You didn’t really answer my question, though.”

“Oh! Well.” Jester adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. “I just want to _know._ About the world, about myself, about… being a normal kid.” There was a change in her last words, a twinge of melancholy to them.

“In that case,” Fjord replied, breaking through the tension that she’d left in the air, “I am _definitely_ not the person you want to talk to about being normal.”

“You’re normaler than I am.”

“That’s not a word, you know.”

“Shut up,” she giggled. Suddenly, Jester sat up straight in her seat. “Ooh, I have an idea!”

Fjord had been planning on continuing the conversation for as long as possible, just to fill the silence, but now he was actually intrigued. “What’s your idea?”

“Let’s play a game - I’ll ask you a question, and then you ask me a question. That way I’m not, like, interrogating you with stuff.”

“Seems easy enough.”

“One rule, though-” she stuck her pointer finger in the air- “You’re not allowed to laugh at me.” Those were the words of someone who was used to being made fun of, and _shit,_ could Fjord empathize.

“Why would I laugh at you?” he said, quirking an eyebrow in her direction.

The look Jester gave him now was similar to the one he’d seen for a moment in the alley, as she was yelling at the muggers - _“Don’t fuck with me, or else.”_ “Just don’t. Okay?”

“I won’t.” Fjord made an X over is heart with two fingers, then raised them to his side. “Scout’s honor.”

“I don’t think you did that right,” she said, her tone betraying the fact that she had no clue what it was supposed to be either.

“Good thing I was never a Boy Scout, then.”

 _Refreshing._ That was the word Fjord would use to describe Jester’s laugh. It was a breath of fresh air on a day that felt like drowning. It was _hope._

“You’re really funny, Fjord,” she smiled as the laugh faded. “Do you want me to go first?”

“If you like.”

“Okay. How accurate to real life is High School Musical?”

If Fjord had been sipping a drink, he might’ve choked on it just then, but he settled for pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows.

“Um. Not… very. Yeah, not much at all. I mean, I guess some parts are sort of accurate, but it’s… yeah, that’s fake.”

“Figures,” Jester said resignedly. “Like, I kind of gathered that there probably aren’t choreographed musical numbers, but I wasn’t sure about the rest.”

Fjord smiled at the notion of bursting into song in the middle of class. No way would anything like that fly at his old school - he could already see the dozens of detention slips.

“My turn?”

“Yeah!”

“Um… what’s your Hogwarts house?”

“Hufflepuff!” Jester beamed, sticking her chin up with pride.

His smile only widened. “I’m not even sure why I asked, really. You might just be the most Hufflepuffy Hufflepuff to ever Hufflepuff.”

Jester sighed, bringing a hand up to fluff her hair like an old movie star. “I choose to take that as a compliment.”

“I was hoping as much.”

“Okay, now, my question for you is the same, what’s your house?”

“Oof, uh, I guess Gryffindor? Is that too cliché?” Fjord shifted in his seat as he thought aloud, leaning one knee against the car door and resting his head on the cool glass of the window. “Yeah, probably Gryffindor. I, like, I’ve taken a bunch of those quizzes - you know the ones - and I feel like I’ve gotten different answers a couple of times, but three out of five, it ends up being Gryffindor, I think.”

“Big mood, honestly. My one friend, he’s also a Hufflepuff, but sometimes he’s veeery Slytheriny, I have to say.”

“Hang on, I thought you said you’d never met anyone else,” Fjord said, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, not in real life, no.” Jester’s freckles danced as her face turned upward in a dreamy smile. “I have a friend, he lives far away and I’ve never met him in person, but we’ve talked and messaged before. He’s really nice and funny, and we play lots of video games together and stuff, and... yeah, he’s _pretty_ cool.” The light tone of her voice and the look on her face made him feel like this “friend” of hers was probably a little more than a friend, at least in her mind, but he wasn’t about to challenge anything. 

They went on talking like this for two hours. Jester spoke animatedly about her favorite movies and TV shows and dogs (anything John Hughes, Phineas and Ferb, and beagles, respectively) and everything in between, while Fjord responded to her questions that ranged from “if you were a flavor of ice cream, what would you be?” to what he wanted to be when he grew up. All the while, he cracked jokes whenever he could, just to hear her laugh again.

-o-

Before they knew it, the exit sign for Trostenwald passed them on the highway. Jester nearly missed the turn, and Fjord would be lying if he said that he didn’t barf just a little in his mouth out of sheer terror as she swerved into the lane.

The first order of business was grabbing some dinner at the nearest McDonalds. Fjord was hesitant to spend money, offering the protein bars that he’d stuffed into his bag before he left, but Jester was all ease and smiles as she brought out a debit card at the cash register. Eating in the restaurant, however, required them to park in the parking lot, and Jester’s parking skills were… well, let’s just say that it’s a good thing that there weren’t many other cars in the lot. The damage could’ve been _much_ worse.

Second point was a place to sleep. A half-hour of aimless driving brought them to a place called the Nestled Nook Inn, whose neon logo of a dove in a nest advertised it as “The Coziest Motel This Side of the Marrow Valley.” _Gotta love advertising,_ Fjord thought.

“Do you think they have real birds here?” Jester mused as they pulled into the lot.

“Are - are you telling me you’ve never seen a bird before?”

“Nah, I’m just teasing.” Her grin was goofy, but Fjord couldn’t help the sigh of relief that passed through his lips. “Birds are cool. Except when they try to sit on your horns, it’s super annoying.”

He blinked, never having thought about that before. “I could imagine.” After another death-defying parking job, which Fjord could safely classify as the second most traumatic thing to ever happen to him, they approached the motel. 

The building was long and low, its single-story concrete walls broken up every few yards by doors painted a peeling tomato red, along with darkened windows covered by plastic blinds. One room towards the end, Fjord could see, had soft yellow light peeking through the slats in the window.

The building seemed to curve in an L-shape, with the shorter end presenting itself as the main office. Jester, being Jester, bounded ahead and threw open the door with a gusto that didn’t quite suit 8 pm. The sharp bang startled what appeared to be a middle-aged human woman reading a book.

“Would - would you mind not doing that at this hour?” she said, her voice a tired sigh as she straightened up behind the glass window that separated her desk from the rest of the space.

Jester froze mid-step, cringing slightly. “Sorry.”

The receptionist, whose metal nametag read “Yorda,” waved her hand, saying, “It’s alright, dear, don’t worry. Now, what can I help you with?”

Fjord’s eyes wandered throughout the sparse area as they spoke, glossing over the wilting plant in the corner and the sets of wooden benches lined up along the side walls. His gaze landed on the television set in the back of Yorda’s office, which was currently playing a random news channel at low volume. And… _oh._

“Okay, thank you so much!” Jester’s voice chirped. She turned towards the entrance, but Fjord was already out of the door, his thoughts racing. _Of course there would be cameras, of course they’re blaming me -_

“Fjord!” Jester’s lemonade-colored converse made a soft scuffing sound as she ran across the pavement to catch up with him. He stood up against the side wall of the office, air moving in and out of his chest rapidly without finding any purchase within his lungs.

“Which room is ours?” he whispered when she was within range.

Giving him a wary look, Jester inspected the small keychains that were attached to the motel keys. “Well, there’s two of them, units 3 and 4, I thought it would probably be best since I kinda snore sometimes -”

“We have to go inside.” Fjord said, already moving towards the doors. She matched his step, muttering something about having too-short legs.

They approached the third unit. A little voice in the back of Fjord’s mind thought that it was probably excessive to get two whole rooms, since most of these places had two beds per room, but she totally had the right to privacy and stuff and _why was he thinking about this so much?_

The bolt of the door clicked open as Jester turned the key, and Fjord dashed inside, pulling her in behind him.

“What is _happening?”_ Jester asked, her expression somewhere between worry and fear.

Fjord’s breathing began to slow as he sat down on the edge of one of the beds. He began to tap his foot against the worn carpet.

“Fjord. What. Is. Going. On.”

He met her eyes for a moment. She was looking at him in a similar way as he’d seen before, with a hard, piercing glare, but she was also fidgeting with something in her hand, running her thumb over it again and again.

“They - all - all this, what _happened_ to me… he’s dead. The person I cared for most is dead and they’re blaming me.”

“Wait, what?” Jester had avoided questioning his past while they were in the car, but now she was just shaking her head in confusion.

Fjord brought a shaking hand up to his mouth, anxiously picking at one of the wide, chipped teeth next to his incisors. “The news. She was watching the news in there. There - there was a fire. When he died. And the police think I started it. And killed him. They have my picture, and my name, and they’re going to throw me in jail, and -”

“Well, did you kill him?”

“Do you think I’d be on a road trip to summer camp if I had?” he deadpanned.

“I mean, _probably_ not,” she mused, sitting herself down on top of the small table in the corner. “But like, if you didn’t do it, then it’s all okay, they’ll let you go! Right?”

Fjord laughed mirthlessly. “Not in this world. Not when a _half-orc_ leaves the scene of the crime unscathed.”

“Oh.” A beat of silence. “ _Oh.”_

“Yeah.”

In the quiet that followed, the only sound was the rapid beating of Fjord’s heart in his head, the pulsing feeling of it in his fingertips. His thoughts, however, his thoughts were not silent. The voice of every foster parent who had told him that he was stupid and ugly and worthless, each person who had blamed him for things he hadn’t done, their words rang in his ears louder than any battle cry could ever muster.

Fjord didn’t even realize he was hyperventilating until Jester was in front of him. “Fjord. Fjord, listen, take deep breaths, okay? Breathe with me? In… out. Okay. You’re okay.”

He forced himself to inhale once, twice, until he didn’t quite feel like dying anymore. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put that all on you.”

“Eh, it’s okay. Technically, we’re both fugitives, so that’s fun.”

Fjord’s gaze snapped up to meet hers again. “We’re - what?”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you in your sleep or anything,” Jester said with a wave of her hand. “I’m… in some trouble in Nicodranas. That’s why I had to leave.” She looked at her feet, still rubbing gently at the trinket in her hands. He didn’t press the subject - her subtle sadness concerning her home was something he’d already gathered on the drive over.

“I’m sorry. Again.”

“Don’t be.” Jester picked up her bag, an incredibly overstuffed pink backpack, like the kind people who go on long hikes in the wilderness have. Once it was balanced on her shoulders, she tilted her head and looked at him again. “You gonna be okay in here?”

Fjord looked about the space. “I’ll be alright, I think I just need some rest. Been a long day.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Thank you,” he said. Jester’s kindness towards him was something Fjord felt like he would never be able to understand, much less repay.

“You’re very welcome, Fjord.” She smiled again, and he wondered if it was actually magic, because Fjord was already calmer. She tossed the unit three key to him, which he caught with minimal scrambling, before exiting with a wave.

Fjord laid back on the bed he’d been sitting on. He knew he should probably go through his bag and take stock of what he had left, but he was exhausted to the bone. Without even getting under the covers, he fell fast asleep.

-o-

But of course, Fjord’s subconscious wouldn’t let him off that easy.

He dreamed that he was underwater, facing the edge of a dropoff into inky black waters. Instinctively, he began to panic, but he discovered after a moment that breathing came normally.

Fjord had never been to the ocean before - that is, he couldn’t remember ever being there. But there was something familiar in this place. Something big. Something _moving._

Far beneath him, he could see the faintest outlines of movement, like massive writhing snakes. The shifting sounds of scales were almost like whispering voices, calling him down into the depths.

Slowly, a bright yellow light began to glow behind him. The whispers, getting louder and louder, Vandran’s voice, saying, _“Run!”_ \- a sound like rolling thunder, with a word pulsing through it: _**WATCHING**. _

_“Run!”_

Fjord woke up, bolting upright in his bed in the motel room. He tried to breathe, but choked and sputtered when instead of air entering his lungs, a spew of water erupted from his lungs. Clutching at his throat, he ran to the bathroom, to the sink, where he was coughing up water for another minute before he could take deep breaths again.

He stood there for a moment, clutching the sides of the sink. _What the actual fuck was that?_ And why did it smell... _fishy_ in there all of a sudden?

And of course, with perfect timing, there was a knock on the door to his room.

He poked his head out of the bathroom, checking the clock on the bedside table - it was just past two in the morning. Maybe Jester had heard him from next door?

Fjord approached the door, trying to ignore how shaky he felt as he fumbled with the keys in the lock.

“Jester, I told you, I’m fine, I-”

As soon as the lock clicked, the door burst open, knocking Fjord to the side. He watched as a lithe figure in dark clothes entered the room. They looked around, before catching sight of Fjord against the front wall.

Out of pure instinct, he ducked the first punch, but the knee to the gut nearly knocked him off of his feet.

Fjord finally got a look at his attacker as he doubled over. A teenager, around his age, brown hair in a small bun, caramel-brown arms wrapped in strips of dark blue fabric. The look of a man (or woman, he couldn’t tell) on a mission as they swung again.

He dodged again, and a now-familiar feeling of icy water rushed through his veins. Just as it had before, the sword appeared in his grasp. The figure stepped back for a moment, blue eyes glinting in the light from the open door as they took in the situation, before they grabbed the tall standing lamp from the corner and swung it around like a staff.

Fjord took a steadying breath. _Sword versus staff. I’ve got this, right?_

He did not have this. For one thing, his only experience with swords, besides the most recent, was toy lightsabers. And two, this person was _very_ adept at using their kind of weapon. Every time Fjord tried to block one of their swings with his own, he was thrown off balance by the weight of the sword. It took less than a minute of fighting before the sword was forced out of his hand, and he was pushed to the ground.

Fjord felt dizzy as he scooted backwards so that he was flush to the wall behind him as the figure advanced. The sword was just out of his reach, and if he could _just-_

“FJORD!”

The shriek came from behind his attacker, and they both turned to see a furious Jester, holding a large wooden box over her head. “Take _that!”_

She brought the box down over the figure’s head, and they crumpled to the ground.

Fjord scrambled to his feet, grabbing the sword and running to Jester’s side, where they both stood silently for a moment. Then, Jester said what they were both feeling:

“What. The. _Fuck.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternate chapter title: wherein fjord Cannot catch a break  
> alternate alternate chapter title: wherein the protagonists wonder What The Fuck is going on
> 
> lol
> 
> now who could that mysterious figure be???? the world may never know  
> or maybe itll be revealed next chapter
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter, it's been a long time coming and honestly Jester is just Such a joy to write
> 
> kudos/comments appreciated!!!
> 
> love yall <3

**Author's Note:**

> i love pain!
> 
> lol
> 
> but yeah, get ready to meet a certain blue tiefling next chapter.....
> 
> comments/kudos are appreciated! love yall <333


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